NIGHT 6
The glass bottle pressed against her lips, its contents emptying down her throat with a cold and bitter taste. It was absolutely disgusting.
Grimacing as she swallowed, Claudia set on the edge of her bed, the window shut against the sounds of the carnival. Tomorrow was the last night, and then she wouldn't need to think about all of these strange occurrences again. There was no one to tell anyway. The sheriff would laugh at her, and others would say they'd always known something was a little different about her. It would ruin her shop.
She leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes. In the darkness, she felt a slight buzz in her gut, perhaps the sleeping draught. A dreamless sleep would be the best she could do for the night. She yearned for it as drowsiness overtook her, slowly followed by growing warmth.
Her eyes snapped open to find her bed swaying. She was on a train, she realized. Countryside bathed in moonlight passed the windows, the gentle rocking making her yearn for sleep even more. It was perfect. If only the train would slow down a bit so she could see the castle in the distance more clearly.
Immediately, the train halted.
She smiled and hopped from bed, moving to the window and willing it to open. She could climb out if she wanted to. There was a ladder waiting for her. All she had to do was go, and she could venture anywhere she pleased. That the castle morphed into a carnival tent didn't matter. She only knew that she had to get there. She would find what she wanted, if only she could get to those lights.
Claudia's eyes jerked open again, the train and scenery gone. She was back in her bedroom, breathing hard. It had been a dream, nothing but a dream. The urge to find the carnival, however, remained. Her whole body burned with longings that tore her in different directions. She fumbled for the glass of water she always kept on the bedside table, guzzling it down between gulps of air.
"I'm not going," she said aloud. "I'm not thinking clearly. I'm not going."
"Really, Claudia?"
She gasped to find Dark at the foot of her bed, watching her. He wore only his shirt and trousers, hands unbuttoning the shirt as he spoke. She couldn't move as he rounded the corner, drawing near her.
"You shouldn't be here," she quietly spoke.
"So tell me to leave."
The shirt dropped to the floor, revealing tattoos that climbed up his arms and over his shoulders. She imagined his back was covered as well, but not his chest. The trail of hair down his front drew her eyes lower. Didn't his words sound familiar from somewhere? Like a cheap novel she'd once read?
"Miss Green," he purred. "I think you would find pushing the boundaries a little further most gratifying."
His hands ran up her sides, drawing her nightgown with them. Desire pooled in her body, head swimming with emotion. His gaze had always been so focused and sharp, and now it scorched over her naked chest. She couldn't tell him to stop. His beard brushing against her face felt too good, the heat of his body seeping into her own. Her hands rose and encircled his neck, her mouth determined to taste the smoke on his lips.
Dark released the woman's hand, ushering her into the dust witch's domain. The tent closed behind them, not a single sound intruding on the nervous woman who eagerly sat before the witch's crystal ball.
"You are here to see the future," the witch hummed.
"Not for me. For my daughter."
Dark's lips stretched into a satisfied smile. It was about time after helping the woman carry her vegetables home. Carrying the load as a child had been even more degrading, as if he were some obedient pack mule.
The witch acknowledged him with a flick of her eyes.
"You may leave, child. She is in good hands."
He hadn't planned to stay anyway. He eagerly left the tent, making his way to the carousel and Cooger. It would have been faster if a sudden heat hadn't run down his legs. Claudia's intense yearnings staggered his steps, unprepared for it as he was. Then followed the sweet intoxication of her turmoil and desperation. She was so close to caving, and the torture of those dreams would bring her here for true fulfillment.
He resumed his path, marveling that her thrashings continued to escalate. There was a brief downturn, and he wondered whether it was his own blood in the potion that made the connection so potent. Normally, it was much harder to sense cravings across the town, away from the heart of his little kingdom.
He entered the carousel tent, unsuspecting of the blow that shot down his spine. The feeling continued to worm its way lower, like hands caressing his skin and then tugging at his pants. He had barely climbed onto the platform before the force of the illusion struck him. Holy fucking Christ and his bitch of a mother too.
He grew hard as he snarled at Cooger.
"What are you waiting for?"
The man blinked in surprise before turning on the machine.
The metamorphosis didn't help with the throes of longing that Claudia was throwing at him. He felt lips wrap around his shaft, tugging at the skin as he commanded her to run her tongue along the underside. His hips were probably rocking into the air from where he laid on the carousel platform, the carnival music clashing so jarringly with the slow, methodical licks caressing him.
He was going to lose it with Cooger watching. Not many sordid thoughts bothered him, but this was one he could skip.
The illusion shifted, and he was on top of her, pushing her into a mattress. He ground his teeth together and vowed to tell the dust witch just what he thought of her methods. He was not the one to be put under illusions. How dare the bitch try to play him when she depended on him for survival.
The carousel stopped rotating, and he tumbled from it, struggling to control himself.
"Out of the way," he growled, storming past Cooger.
There would be no more sleep tonight. Claudia sat by the stove, waiting for the teakettle to sing. She was truly awake now, and dreaded returning to sleep, even as the possibility of another tryst whispered in her ear. She couldn't believe how her imagination had contorted—couldn't believe that she'd wrapped her mouth around a man. She'd never even seen a full grown man naked before, except by accident when she'd walked in on Mark changing for the river. She'd had no idea that a woman might do what her dream self had.
Dark's fingers still ghosted through her hair when she thought about it too deeply. It had ended with him on top of her, the train swaying beneath them as he promised to show her Venice.
The kettle's sharp whistle startled her. She rose and turned off the stove, but not before the phone rang. It was far too late for a social call.
She yanked the phone from its perch.
"Hello? This is Claudia."
"Thank god, sweetheart. Have you seen your mother?"
"It's 1:00 am, dad. I haven't seen her since this morning."
Something had happened. Her fingers curled against the receiver, fear rising in her throat.
"I don't know where she is," her father confessed. "I haven't seen her since 7:00, when she went to visit your sister. I called there, but she never told them anything about a visit. I just got done looking around town, and there's not a soul outside."
"I'll take a look, dad. You should stay home. Did you talk to the sheriff?"
"He's not answering the phone. I should have called earlier when the office was open. I just thought that she'd decided to spend the night with the grandkids and forgot to say. I didn't think she was missing."
"Okay," Claudia breathed, thinking. "Can sis look on your side of town? I'm going to look over here—the, um, schoolyard and carnival. Please stay home dad. I'm sure we'll find her."
"Take someone with you," he said. "I don't want you out alone in case something happens. I can be there in a minute.
"No, dad. I can handle it. I'll take someone with me. You've got to stay home and mind your leg. I'll call back soon. If I don't, you should send someone to the carnival."
The phone hit its hook with a loud bang. There was only one place to look, and as she changed into pants and a dark blouse, she quaked to think of it. There was no reason for mother to go to the carnival though, and if there were suppressed longings in her mom's soul, she prayed Dark had never glimpsed them. Pulling her boots on, she lingered near the cabinet. It took a moment of consideration before she grabbed the baseball bat from inside. She'd never actually had to handle it before. She'd forgotten it was there.
What are you going to do with a bat, Claudia?
Her nerves danced with anxiety as she stole through the town, skirting the carnival to see if any tents remained lit. A few workers sat outside their shared quarters, lantern light casting their shadows against canvas, but by and large, nothing moved. The rides and stands stood empty and still, and nothing hinted at where her mother might be.
Her heart felt a tug toward the mirror maze, and then that gray tent that warned of other dangers. Her mouth ran dry. Perhaps whatever had affected her at home was still playing with her perception, making her eager to approach the grounds.
She had to find mother though. There was no choice.
She ran for the closest tent, creeping between it and others. Some revealed snoring, others nothing but silence. It was a purple tent that most caught her eye, the colorful ribbons around its doorway swaying in the night air. A faint glow beckoned her ever closer.
A woman lay on the carpeted ground, hands neatly folder over her stomach.
"Mom," Claudia whispered, rushing forward and seizing the woman's shoulders. There was no response. Her mother's eyes remained closed, her body unresponsive. The strange light came from the crystal clutched in folded hands, its glow seeping between fingers.
"She won't wake until I allow it," a female voice whispered.
Claudia jerked around to find the woman of silk blocking her exit. She lifted the bat, sweaty palms pressed against wood.
"What did you do to her?"
"Now, now," the woman soothed. "Don't upset yourself. She breathes still."
"Where's Dark?"
"He comes."
The woman sighed, slowly stepping aside and whispering low under her veil. Claudia considered hitting her with the bat—wondered if that would undo whatever sorcery held her mother. Sorcery? Good god she couldn't believe she was here, sweat dripping down her neck as darkness blotted out the doorway.
"Good evening, Miss Green."
"What did you do to her? You're not taking her."
Dark approached, slowly pulling his gloves off and tossing them onto a table. In the darkness, his face was hidden. Only his voice commanded the shadows.
"So you know more than you betrayed," he mused. "I wouldn't have guessed, the way you invited yourself to breakfast."
"I didn't know then."
"Know what exactly?" he smiled. "You're not even sure, are you?"
She bit her tongue, brandishing the bat at him as he moved closer.
"Please, Claudia. We're above bludgeoning each other here." His hand shot out, wrenching the bat from her grasp before shoving her backwards so she stumbled. "Lights," he ordered, and candles flickered to life, revealing draped curtains of every color and glittering crystals.
"Your mother is a simple woman," he said. "Can you guess what heartbreak plagues her most? She wants nothing more than for you to be settled and secure in a boring life. She wants you to be like your sister: dreamless beyond the child bouncing on her knees."
"Please, Mr. Dark. Just let her go."
"You don't wish to hear more? How unexpectedly dull of you. You see, your mother eagerly lapped up a promise of your future, and now she's mine. I crafted the most exquisite vision for her: you, married to a very nice man, and with no less than two children bumbling around her legs. She loved that part—relinquished her soul readily, even though we'd hardly begun to excavate the inner workings of her heart. I didn't even get a chance to toy with her sorrow over the child her body rejected before you came along. Her price was much lower, so there she found herself, attending your wedding with the love of a mother. Then came the news of your unhappy, miserable marriage to a man that closed your shop. You are miserable in her world now, and she knows it. She knows that you hate her for her valiant efforts at pairing you to a suitable young man."
"Oh my god," Claudia exhaled, tears welling up behind her eyes.
"That's where she is now—the price she paid. She has no idea it isn't true. She might, dare I say, choose to outcast herself over the sorrow and join the carnival."
"You bastard," Claudia managed.
"I am many things, but not that," Dark countered, utterly calm as he backed her into the curtains. "I admit her pain is not nearly as exquisite as others might be. Some people are just…" His hand lifted, touching her cheek, "wound so tightly beneath the surface. Regardless," he dismissed, snapping his hand back, "she is mine, and I'll keep her tortured soul until I grow tired of it and end her life."
"There has to be something you want more than her," Claudia begged. "Please. Let her go. What must I do for you to let her go?"
Dark's smile was lean and real.
"You are in no position to barter. You won't leave this tent without my permission."
"No, but you don't own me, not like her. She accepted the illusion. She took a deal. I haven't." He studied her, expression focused and unmoving. "There must be something you want more than her."
"I will accept a trade," he relented. "You for her."
"What reassurance do I have that you'll really let her go?"
"I give you my word."
"I don't trust your word."
"But you agree to the deal." She balked. "Say it," he ordered.
"I agree that if you let me take my mother home and she is fully released, never to be troubled by you again, I will return to make the exchange. I won't accept anything from you until I come back."
Dark yanked her forward, bringing her against his chest as he opened a palm in her face. She stared at the image there, a perfect tattoo of her own face.
"I can find you, wherever you go," he darkly promised. "You've made a deal."
He allowed her to step away and kneel by her mother. The woman stirred, mumbling as Claudia helped her stand. There was a mindlessness to her mother's movements, as though she could steer her anywhere she liked.
"You have an hour," Dark intoned. "Be quick."
Claudia nodded in understanding, but said nothing. She focused on leading her mother outside, the woman mumbling apologies under her breath the entire time.
"Come on," Claudia encouraged her. "It's okay. I don't hate you."
"My fault," her mother quietly sobbed.
There was nothing more to calm the woman as they walked through the deserted streets. If anyone noticed from their homes, not a door nor window opened. It was when they'd passed the first two blocks that her mother's movements became more conscious and less mechanical. By the time they reached the other side of town, she was fighting Claudia's guidance, struggling to wake from the nightmares that gripped her.
"Claudia?"
Her mother's eyes snapped fully open, confusion evident as she latched onto her daughter with both arms, embracing her.
"It's okay, mom. You're okay now. It was a dream."
"I thought…I don't know what I thought. You were married, but he treated you so badly. You weren't the same anymore!"
"Shhh. We're almost home. Let's get inside. It wasn't real."
Her mother was still crying as they reached the front porch, her father bursting from the door and pulling his wife to him.
"She was at the carnival," Claudia explained, her mother too hysterical to speak. "She took a pretty hard knock to the head."
"Let's get both of you inside," her father smiled. "We'll need to wake you throughout the night dear, in case it's a concussion. Claudia, would…where are you going?"
She paused at the bottom of the porch steps, barely illuminated by the light.
"Dear, you must stay," her mother insisted.
"I can't. Charles helped me find you, and he left to tell sis that everything's okay. He'll be looking for me to make sure I get home safely. I'll see you tomorrow."
The words grated her throat, constricting it as her parents protested once more before wishing her well and insisting that she return for breakfast. Claudia's empty promises sank in the night, her footsteps soft in the darkness. Perhaps there was a chance, she thought. There was no telling whether Dark's magic had worn off because of their deal or because of the distance, but she saw a glimmer of escape. After all, he'd always tried to get her to the carnival. He'd drawn other people there as well, and everything she'd seen outside of dreams had taken place on the carnival grounds.
Could she outrun them in this small town for two more days? Would they even bother to try if she simply stayed at the sheriff's under some guise of being in danger?
The shadows around her shifted, clawing at her footsteps as she rushed home. She grabbed her savings and shoved them into a bag with extra clothing. She could leave tomorrow on the first train possible if nothing else.
A sharp wind blew her bedroom window open, and a clattering scurried across the roof. Her heart pounded as hard as her feet as she ran for the front door only to have it slam open, the hinges shaking.
"We had a deal, Claudia!"
She spun and ran in the opposite direction. Something smashed behind her, the sound of breaking glass barely registering as she fell from the window. She stumbled to the ground and took off, never looking back as she tore down the street. She couldn't go to anyone's home. God knew what Dark would do to them for helping her. There was really only one obvious answer, the steeple ahead of her urging her onward.
The church was never locked for any reason. Its door opened easily for her, sealing behind her with a quiet thud that echoed in the worship chamber. Rows of pews surrounded her, the balcony overhead where the organ sat barely illuminated by moonlight through the tall windows. She slowed her breathing and crouched between two pews in the middle of the room. She was in sprinting distance of both the rear staircase, which led to the basement, and the front door.
Maybe no one would come here to look for her. She had no idea how long she sat there, peering at the front door until it silently opened. Dark strolled inside without his cane, black on black in the shadows. Measured steps carried him through streams of moonlight, revealing the scanning turns of his head.
"I know you're here," he spoke. "Do you really think that you can simply walk away from our deal? I am many things, my dear Miss Green, but passive is not one of them."
She listened to each footstep. Each breath from his lips. She rolled under the pews, slowly working her way to the front door while he neared the front of the church, where the altar sat, the pulpit behind it.
"Ah, the seat of god in this town," he commented, setting his hands on the altar's carved border. "My parents were devout, so devout that they locked me in my room for days as punishment for the simplest of tricks. Alone. Isolated with every verse in the good book read at me as my bedtime stories. Murdering children and raping their mothers. Wholesome entertainment, god's precious word."
He lifted a vase of flowers from the altar and smashed it into the wall.
"What's the saying?" he demanded. "Spare the rod; spoil the child. Misbehaving was the devil's work, or so ma and pa wished to impress upon me. Impress it they did."
Claudia reached the front door, but found it locked. She exhaled and turned to find his back to her. There was a spark of fire as he lit a cigarette. Determined, she yanked the door with all her strength, not caring if he heard. The door shuttered, but did not budge.
"It's pointless, Claudia."
He'd finished and turned to face her, leaning against the altar behind him.
"What are you?"
"So you haven't figured it out entirely then. We are the autumn people. We hear your wishes and desperate cries and feed upon them. There is nothing so sweet as nursing despair—nothing as delicate as the aspirations yearning to burst from the human heart. It's people like your mother that jump into our nooses, filling our plates."
"You're a demon."
"Oh no," he dryly chuckled. "Something else entirely."
He snuffed his cigarette on the altar and descended on her. If she moved left, he followed. To the right, and he blocked it. Frustrated, she threw a hymnal at him.
"Now you're just being childish," he scorned.
She made a break for the back of the church, having no other option. He easily caught her, tackling her into the wall as she pounded her fists against him to no avail. He was pressed against her, holding her arms down at her sides.
"You're weaker here," Claudia breathed.
"Still stronger than you." A burning pain seared up her arms, stealing her breath as she squirmed against him. Her continued fighting led him to slam her into the wall, breathing heavily into her face. "I will have you, Claudia," he promised. "One way or another, you belong to the autumn people now, and I'd gladly sacrifice ten souls in exchange for yours."
Claudia was growing more subdued in his grasp, pain and fatigue building.
"Isn't this just business?" she exhaled, vision blurring.
"Sweet, sweet Claudia. You are still a novice at life."
He hauled her toward the door, looping her arm through his in a vice like grip. She recalled little else before losing consciousness.